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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630216">eat fuck love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldiwereShOoOkspeare/pseuds/wouldiwereShOoOkspeare'>wouldiwereShOoOkspeare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinda, Light breathplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Smut, Spanking, absolute filth, but it's weirdly specific sometimes, idk how to tag this or what it means on a deeper level but sofa licking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:13:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,046</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldiwereShOoOkspeare/pseuds/wouldiwereShOoOkspeare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey loves food. To the point that she scoffs it down before her tastebuds can fully realize what’s happening. </p><p>Ben likes food. He eats it mostly out of necessity but at a pace slow enough so that his taste buds can appreciate what’s happening no matter how boring grilled chicken and broccoli is.</p><p>Daddy kink fic where Ben teaches Rey how to savour her food. Bratty Rey rights. Have some food porn with your porn.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>eat fuck love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written because I think though ben probably has the most boring diet in the world, he's probably irritatingly pretentious about food.<br/>my beta is Grammarly any mistakes I make are my own.<br/>take a shot every time I mention the Hitachi</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He should be horrified. </p><p>And there’s a part of him that is.</p><p>But she’s so fucking cute, rosy cheeks puffed up with the noodles that she’s currently shovelling into her mouth forehead slightly shiny with the effort of it. </p><p>Chewing once, twice before swallowing what was a quarter of the noodle box that he got not even five minutes ago.</p><p>He watches in adoration and awe as Rey deftly twists the second quarter of noodles around the chopsticks and shoves it into her gaping mouth. </p><p>Catching his gaze, with noodles still hanging from her mouth she unabashedly asks, “what?” </p><p>Realizing that his mouth was hanging open and the dumpling that was safely clasped between his chopsticks is now back half-broken in the takeaway box, he forces his mouth to close and clenches his jaw as he manoeuvres the half-broken dumpling back between his chopsticks. </p><p>He chances a look up at her and by then she is in the process of swallowing the second quarter of noodles and twirling the third quarter around her chopsticks. </p><p>Rey spares him the time that it takes to bring the noodles to her mouth to again ask, “what?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he mumbles carefully dipping the dumpling in soy sauce before bringing it to his mouth, letting the sharp saltiness of the soy hit his tongue which is soothed by the fattiness of the dumpling filling. </p><p>Rey rolls her eyes and shifts five centimetres away from him. </p><p>God, she’s such a fucking brat.</p><p>“Rey,” he growls in a warning.</p><p>She rolls her eyes again. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Rey.”</p><p>She lets out an exasperated sigh, letting her chopsticks fall gracelessly back into the box, one losing balance and toppling on to the leather of their sofa leaving a splatter of sauce behind it.</p><p>“Fine,” she mumbles. “Pardon?” </p><p>Ben hums in satisfaction. </p><p>Pointing to the sauce on the sofa he asks, “are you going to clean that up?” </p><p>Pouting, she reaches over to the pile of napkins on the coffee table and Ben knocks her hand back at the last second.</p><p>“No,” he tuts. “Not like that.”</p><p>She looks at him with her sauce glazed lips parted slightly with confusion. He looks down at her lips very deliberately before flicking up to pointedly meet her gaze again. </p><p>Rey’s eyes darken as she comprehends what he wants of her and without another word she slowly leans down, wet little tongue poking out between her lips to lick at the sauce on the sofa. </p><p>“You know,” he drawls. “Some of us like to taste our food.” </p><p>Lapping at the sofa, she sends him a heated glare that makes him chuckle.</p><p>As she cleans the last morsel of sauce off the leather with a kittenish swipe of her tongue, he croons “good girl.” </p><p>Her cheeks flush at that as she slowly rises again, crossing her legs into a seated position. She brings the container of noodles and balances it precariously on her knee and without cutting her eye contact from him she twirls the 3rd quarter of noodles around her chopsticks bringing it to her mouth and again, chewing once, twice, before swallowing. </p><p>And then she has the gall to wink at him.</p><p>He pounces, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her into his lap. </p><p>“You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” he growls into her ear, smiling when he hears her whimper.</p><p>He leans around her to steal her noodles, roughly rummaging through them with his chopsticks.</p><p>“There's a carrot in there, baby. Did you know that?”</p><p>Rey shakes her head furiously, rocking back against his rapidly hardening cock. </p><p>He sharply tugs at her hair and a shiver runs through his spine when he hears her whine. </p><p>“I asked you a question sweetheart, are you going to give me an answer?” </p><p>“I already did asshole,” she snarks, writhing against him. </p><p>He forces her hips to still with a bruising amount of pressure and runs his nose against the delicate skin of where her shoulder meets her neck before biting down. Hard. </p><p>“Come on, you know better than that. Use your words baby.”</p><p>Rey squirms against him, her hand itching to soothe the pain but unable to escape from his grasp. “No Daddy, I didn’t know.” </p><p>“That’s it-” he soothes the bite with a gentle kiss, “-good girl.”</p><p>Picking up the carrot he brings it to her mouth. “Just nibble on it baby, I want you to taste it.”</p><p>Rey yanks the carrot piece from between the chopsticks, barely chewing on it and swallowing it down. </p><p>Ben’s body tightens, his spine going stiff. He calmly sets down the noodle box, closing the lid and discarding the chopsticks in the plastic takeaway bag. He places the lid over his dumpling box, sealing it with a definitive snap. Ignoring Rey’s yelp, he hauls her over his shoulder and takes the two takeaway containers to the kitchen counter before striding over to the bedroom. </p><p>“You just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?” he snarls as he throws her on to the bed, enjoying the sight of her body going all soft and pliable on the bed. “Get on your hands and knees.” </p><p>Rey scrambles, turning over and burying her face in a pillow and wiggling her pert arse in the air. </p><p>“How many do you think?” he hums in consideration. “10? You were a pretty bad girl earlier. Very rude.” </p><p>Rey nods into the pillow and Ben pulls her head back by her hair, letting out a disappointed sigh. “I thought we went over this earlier sweetheart, you have to use your words.” </p><p>“Yes Daddy, 10 please Daddy.” </p><p>“That’s it baby, good girl. Now I want you to count for Daddy so you need to keep your head up okay, so Daddy can hear you loud and clear.”</p><p>Arching her back <em> just </em> so, so he can see the wetness that has stained her sweatpants she utters a sweet “Yes, Daddy.” </p><p>He pulls her sweats down to her knees delighting in the glistening of her thighs, he cracks his hand against her soft skin where her arsecheek meets her thighs sharply, the sound bouncing against the wall. </p><p>She chokes out a breathy, “one, Daddy.”</p><p>She seemed to enjoy that one a <em> little </em> too much. </p><p>The next few slaps aren’t as sharp, hard enough to sting but not enough to mark her, his hand moving too slowly for it to be anything more than a tease. Her counting gets increasingly more frustrated, hips squirming trying to push against his hand for more contact.</p><p>Tutting, he shoves her lower back down with one hand so that her chest is flat against the bed, with nowhere to move. </p><p>He slaps her again- another teasing slap that results in Rey huffing an irritated “six. Daddy.” </p><p>Smiling to himself, Ben slowly counts to ten watching Rey struggling to stay still, quiet, and <em> good </em>. After silently counting to ten and letting out a low breath he slaps her hard, a resounding crack that fills the air her supple pink arse bouncing from the impact. </p><p>Rey is quiet for a moment, breathing hard before letting out a shaky “seven. Daddy.” </p><p>The next slaps come in hard and fast, Rey barely having the time to count before the sound of skin against skin overpowers the sound of heavy panting and poorly disguised whines. </p><p>“Ten, Daddy!” Rey shouts, slumping against the pillow. </p><p>Fluttering kisses across her reddened skin he croons, “Good girl Rey, you were such a good girl.” </p><p>Gently, he lifts her by the waist rolling her over and slots himself between her thighs. </p><p>She’s blushing a pretty pink that rivals that of her arse and he can’t help but brush gentle kisses against her cheeks. </p><p>He slides a hand between her thighs, running his index finger through her slit. </p><p>“You’re so wet, Rey,” he gasps in mock surprise. “My pretty, dirty, filthy girl. What <em>shall</em> we do with you?” </p><p>He slides himself down her body so that his face is framed by her soft thighs, the smell of her overclouding his senses. </p><p>He licks a hot stripe up the length of her, swirling his tongue around her clit, pulling away to smile up at her when he hears her moan. </p><p>Gently he takes her labia in between his lips and sucks at them gently, groaning when her essence trickles onto his tongue. </p><p>Desperate for more he lazily dips his tongue in her centre, collecting the wetness that pools there and letting the musky flavour coat his tastebuds. </p><p>Rey grinds impatiently against his face enjoying how her deep, strangled moans turn into breathless gasps when he flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue. </p><p>He pins down her squirming hips with his forearm. “Didn’t you know-” he nibbles at the inside of her thighs. “-Good things come to those who wait.” </p><p>Rey grunts in his response and he muffle his chuckle onto the soft skin of her thigh. </p><p>Drawing back a little he traces the shape of her labia as if it’s something precious (because it <em> is </em> something precious).</p><p>Ever so slowly, he presses his index finger into her enjoying how she stretches open for him, nice and wet, her tightness moulding to the shape of him. </p><p>Leaning back down to lave a dirty open-mouthed kiss over her clit, Ben slides in another finger, slowly fucking them into her, making sure to ever so often to scrape at that spot that drives her insane. </p><p>And Rey-</p><p>Her hands are tightly fisting the bedsheets, knuckles bone-white, her mouth is twisted open, wet hiccoughs escaping her throat when she inhales too shallowly, her hips fighting against his forearm rocking against him for <em> more </em>.</p><p>When her thighs begin to shake around his ears and she frantically mutters strings of “Daddy, please, please Daddy,” he pulls his fingers out and leaves one last open-mouthed kiss on her clit before drawing back. Looking at her irritated, impatient, confused expression he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, moaning. </p><p>Rey just stares at him, open-mouthed, hair an absolute fucking mess, eyes pleading. </p><p>Sliding off the bed he saunters towards the door. When he gets to the doorframe he turns back slightly, and with a great amount of effort on his part, feigns a disinterested,  “I’m still pretty hungry, I think I’m going to finish my dumplings now.” </p><p>As he walks to the kitchen he hears a scream muffled into a pillow and smirks.</p><p> *</p><p>Rey has a weird history with food.</p><p>She loves food. Can’t get enough of it. </p><p>Food was a commodity when she was growing up, it was a ‘will there, won’t there’ kind of situation, it wasn’t a given, it wasn’t a right, it wasn't an afterthought, it was constantly on her mind and it was something that she had to fight for. </p><p>So she loves food but she scoffs it down like there’s not enough like someone will take it away from her because there was a time when that was reality. </p><p>Thank <em> fuck </em> reality doesn’t look like that for her anymore. </p><p>So yeah she loves food but most of the time she has no fucking clue what the food she’s eating tastes like. Just that it tastes good and kind of like freedom and 'yay there’s food'. </p><p>Ben has been feeding her for the past few days, balancing her on his lap, gingerly bringing food to her mouth- in these tiny fucking portions that she’s not used to, wiping her mouth with a clean serviette, making sure that she actually eats her meals, not just swallows them. </p><p>It should be annoying, Rey thinks. To have someone take control of something that is so fucking important to her, something that is low (high) key traumatic for her, to take longer than five minutes to eat her food, to eat it as if she has all the time in the world when it’s built into her system that she does <em> not </em>.</p><p>But it’s nice how Ben does it. How he cares that she enjoys the food. That she tastes. That she picks up on the savoury notes, the sweet notes, the bitterness, the sourness, the umami flavours. That he cares about not just what she’s eating but how she’s eating it. That enjoying food isn’t just about being glad that there’s food on the table. That she deserves to taste and savour and decide for herself what she enjoys and what she doesn’t. </p><p>He doesn’t even like food that much, eats it out of necessity, for its nutritional value but he cares about her liking food and enjoying it. </p><p>It’s nice.</p><p>He just-</p><p>He hasn’t let her come. </p><p>But maybe, just maybe, if she riles him up a bit-</p><p> *</p><p>Ben is busy cooking, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board in a steady rhythm accompanying the buzz of her vibrator. </p><p>Hiding her soft whimpers in the inside of her wrist she rolls her hips, grinding her clit against the head of the Hitachi wand. </p><p>It feels good.</p><p>So good.</p><p>But Ben has spoilt her and she just wants something to clench on.</p><p>Turning over to her stomach to switch positions she sighs happily slipping two fingers in and clenching around them.</p><p>Just when she returns the Hitachi to her clit Ben walks into the room.</p><p>“Rey, dinner’s read-”</p><p>Rey should stop.</p><p>She knows she should stop muffling her moans into the pillow, that her thumb shouldn’t press the up button on the Hitachi, that she shouldn’t slip in another finger, but she does so anyway because now he’s <em> watching </em> her and it feels too fucking good to stop. </p><p>“What are you doing?” </p><p>She lifts her head from the pillow to answer but comes out of her mouth is a strangled moan.</p><p>“You know that you shouldn’t be doing that, don’t you sweetheart?”</p><p>Rey nods. </p><p>She hears a heavy sigh behind her clenching instinctively when she feels the mattress next to slump with his weight. He gently reaches around her, and ignoring Rey’s weak whimper of protest, turns off the Hitachi and draws her into his lap.</p><p>“I know that you’re a needy little girl who needs to come, but I don’t want your dinner to get cold, okay? And you wouldn’t want the dinner Daddy made go to waste, now would you Rey?”</p><p>Rey nodds weakly, straining to rub herself against the hardness that is pressed against her. A sharp pinch to her thigh jolts her out of her movements</p><p>“Manners, Rey. Answer the question.”</p><p>Rey lets out a sharp gasp when he dries the slick on the Hitachi off the inside of her thigh. </p><p>“No, Daddy I wouldn’t.” </p><p>She can feel Ben smile against her neck and struggles not to sit straight, shoulders back, and be the picture-perfect image of the good girl that’s a little too sycophantic. </p><p>Leaving one last sharp pinch on her thigh, he murmurs “Good girl.” He fixes the shirt that’s rucked up to expose her tits down, carefully straightening the creased cotton out. “ Now up you pop, time for dinner.” </p><p>As Rey trails behind him, it does not escape her that his hands are still gripping the Hitachi, his knuckles bone-white around them. </p><p>Rey jumps onto the counter, legs swinging as she watches Ben move around the kitchen: his shirt sleeves rolled up, the skin of his muscled forearms shifting as he twirls the pasta around tongs, carefully sliding them down onto the plate, in a perfect tunnel of golden noodles and glossy sauce.</p><p>When Ben sets the bowl of spaghetti on the table and sits down straightening his cutlery, Rey scrambles down from the bench to plop herself into Ben’s lap.</p><p>Ben gently lifts her off his lap and plants her on the seat next to him. Ignoring her pout he places a silver fork down next to her bowl with a soft clatter.</p><p>“Do you really think you deserve that right now, Rey?”</p><p>Rey pouts, shaking her head. </p><p>Ben nods slowly in approval. “I know you want to come sweetheart, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a lesson first.” With a tap of his index finger at her knee, her legs spread open, and he slides the Hitachi between her thighs until the head hits her clit. “Daddy’s not going to feed you tonight but I still want you to eat slowly and taste the food so we’re going to play a little game. When you’re eating, that vibrator turns on. When you’ve finished swallowing we’re turning that Hitachi off, okay baby? Now you close those pretty legs for me, and we’ll start playing, okay?”</p><p>“Yes Daddy.” Her legs feel heavy as they close around the Hitachi, thighs pressed tightly around the handle, back arched forward to make sure the head of the Hitachi is snug and secure against the crotch of her cotton panties.</p><p>She picks up the fork, twirling it in her hand before slowly prodding the spaghetti ruining the perfect conical shape that Ben had so artfully arranged. </p><p>“Don’t play with your food.” Ben’s voice is soft, amused and there’s a dark threat that lies beneath his words that leaves her squirming. </p><p>She twirls the noodles around her fork, and Ben’s hand slides up her thigh, thumb hovering above the button. She brings the fork to her mouth, lips parting-</p><p>“What does it smell like?” Ben’s voice is rough, eyes glued to her parted lips.</p><p>Rey resists rolling her eyes but the huff that escapes her lips is another story. </p><p>Ben sensing her impatience starts to draw his hand back from her thigh and Rey-</p><p>She panics. Back straight, shoulders back, she sniffs the noodles nose twitching. </p><p>“It’s garlicky-” hums in thought “-lemony-” she sniffs at it again, eyes watering slightly when the scent of chilli tickles her nostrils, “and there’s heat to it.” </p><p>“Good girl.” Ben sounds delighted. “It’s Spaghetti Aglio e Olio,” he pronounces flawlessly, so fucking pretentiously that Rey is reminded of how much she couldn’t fucking stand him when they first met, snobby and uptight only to realise and discover that it was all irritatingly attractive and that pretentious mouth was so good at <em> so </em> many things. </p><p>He slides his hand up her thigh again, thumb hovering over the button, the hair on her thighs standing up in anticipation. </p><p>Two things happen in the following seconds.</p><p>One, Rey closes her mouth around the fork biting into the noodles, flavours exploding into her mouth.</p><p>Two, the Hitachi turns on with a rumble vibrating against her clit, the friction against the wet cotton of her panties making her squirm. </p><p>She also moans and it’s unclear as to whether that’s from the spaghetti or the vibrator. </p><p>Rey’s mouth hangs open as she lets the sweetness of the garlic and the sharpness of her lemon roll over her tongue and rolls her hips into the vibrator.</p><p>It feels so good. </p><p>So fucking good. </p><p>She isn’t entirely sure why she never ate like this before. </p><p> Ben’s finger taps at her jaw, forcing her to close her mouth and jostles her out of her pleasure-filled reverie. </p><p>“You need to chew,” he warns. “Otherwise-” he slowly slips his hand down the handle of the Hitachi as if to move it away, “-I’ll have to take this away from you.”</p><p>She whimpers. </p><p>“And we wouldn’t want that now, would we baby?” </p><p>Rey shakes her head furiously, chewing her food down eagerly, maybe a little too eagerly because she swallows and then- </p><p>The vibrator is off her clit. It’s rumbling steadily against the skin of her thighs inches away from where she needs it. She glares at it before glaring at him. </p><p>Ben tuts.  </p><p>“Remember baby? You have to eat slowly and <em>taste</em> the food. The second there’s no food in your mouth and you’ve finished swallowing, is the second I take this off.”</p><p>Rey growls, stabbing the bowl with her fork as she twirls the noodles around it. </p><p>She stares at him to make sure he fulfils his promise and inelegantly slurps the noodles into her mouth with a smack of her lips. </p><p>The vibrator returns to her clit and her hips jolt before settling into the head of the Hitachi. </p><p>She chews once.</p><p>Twice.</p><p>Three, four, five times before mentally preparing herself for the loss of any kind of friction on her clit.</p><p>She swallows and her empty cunt clenches in mourning as he pulls away the vibrator yet again. </p><p>Just as she’s about to bring a forkful of noodles (no longer going to the effort of elegantly twirling them around her fork and not wanting to waste time doing so) to her mouth to gracelessly slurp at them Ben stops her with a stern tap on the wrist. </p><p>“What?” she grunts. </p><p>Ben smiles but his eyes are dark and threatening and she knows that she just made this exponentially harder for herself. </p><p><em> Fuck </em>. </p><p>She breathes in sharply through her nose, collecting herself before trying again in a sugary voice.  “Pardon, Daddy.”</p><p>His eyebrow quirks. </p><p>“Does it taste good?”  </p><p>“Yes Daddy.”</p><p>“What do you like about it?” </p><p>“I like how the garlic and the olive oi-”</p><p>“Extra virgin.”</p><p>“The extra virgin olive oil creates a rich glossy sauce and-” Her breath hitches as he slides the Hitachi closer towards her clit so she can feel the vibrations <em> skim </em> the fabric of her panties without directly touching her where she needs it most. </p><p>“Go on, sweetheart,” he encourages, his voice low and rumbles through as teasingly as the vibrator does. </p><p>“And the lemon juice and parsley cuts through the richness of the sauce and makes everything sing harmoniously and feel alive and then you get the kickback from the chilli that makes you want more.”</p><p>“Good girl,” he sings and Rey thinks that his interrogation is over that she’ll get to bite into those delicious noodles and rock her hips into those vibrations but-</p><p>She should’ve known.</p><p>She should’ve known that a cute “pardon, daddy” wouldn’t fix everything.</p><p>Because Ben fixes his stare upon her and says,</p><p>“How is it cooked?”</p><p><em> What? </em> </p><p> She cocks her head and mindlessly her hips slide forward so they’re <em>that</em> much closer to the head of the vibrator. </p><p>Ben must take pity on her because he elaborates. </p><p>“Is it al dente? Is the middle still a bit white? Can you check for me, sweetheart?”</p><p>Rey sets down her fork with a clatter. She picks up a noodle between her fingers, brings it to eye level and breaks it in half. She examines the noodle strand, noting the white centre. She sets the noodle back down on the plate and before she can wipe her fingers clean on her napkin, he brings them to his mouth, tongue sweeping along her fingers sucking at any sauce that remains on them.</p><p>“Mmm,” he smacks his lips. “That is quite good.” </p><p>Rey nods in response, a weak tilt of her head that she isn’t entirely aware of. </p><p>“Are you going to finish, sweetheart? We still have dessert to get through.” </p><p>She picks up the fork again and sighs in relief as she slurps the noodles into her mouth and vibrator is yet again rubbing oh so perfectly against her clit. </p><p>She suffers through the edging as she works through the plate of spaghetti, the insides of her thighs slick with arousal, her panties saturated and beyond saving, her cunt clenching rhythmically around air every time she finishes swallowing and the steady orgasm that she’s been working up to all week is torn away from her. </p><p>When she sets her fork down against the empty plate reluctantly, the Hitachi buzzing away against her thigh, she looks up at him.</p><p>His face is a mixture of pride, satisfaction, amusement and hunger. </p><p>Rey looks down at her empty plate and across to Ben who does not have a plate in front of him. </p><p>“Aren’t you going to eat, Daddy?” she asks her voice tinged with concern. </p><p>“Later, baby, later,” he promises. </p><p>And then-</p><p>“I have to work up that appetite first.” </p><p>Rey <em> dies </em>. </p><p>And is revived when-</p><p>“Do you still have room for dessert?”</p><p>Which is a stupid question. Rey has always had room for dessert, and Ben isn’t stupid so-</p><p>She bends forward from her waist, thighs clenched around the vibrator to keep it in place as she reaches to palm Ben’s cock, hard within the constraints of his trousers. </p><p>Ben tuts. He lays his palms flat on the table and pushes his chair back, stands up and walks to the kitchen counter. </p><p>Rey’s hand is still hovering mid-air in shock when Ben returns with a plate of something that looks like a cake. </p><p>Oh.</p><p>He meant literal dessert. </p><p>Rey tries not to pout in disappointment. </p><p>Judging by the amused gleam in Ben’s eye she didn’t exactly succeed. </p><p>“It’s Miso Blueberry crumble cake,” he explains, carefully setting down the plate in front of her so that the dollop of cream that adorns the deep golden crust and plump blueberry filling of the cake. “The blueberries get all sweet and jammy in the oven and the white miso gives it this satisfying depth and saltiness that compliments the blueberries. The recipe calls for wholewheat flour so there's an earthiness to it that grounds all the flavours and the cake should be nice and moist because of the yoghurt.” </p><p>Rey is listening. Not because it’s particularly interesting, she’s always been too consumed by there actually being food on the table to critique the taste of things but-<br/>
The fact that Ben, the Ben, her Ben, who would happily eat grilled chicken, asparagus and kale for the rest of his life went to so much fucking trouble to understand food, the complexities of flavour so she could enjoy them.</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t think she’s ever been hornier. </p><p>So she picks up the fork, slices through the biscuit crumble, through the yoghurt-moist, blueberry filled cake swipes it through a dollop of cream and places it into her mouth. </p><p>And the vibrator touches her clit. </p><p>In the utter wholesomeness of Ben taking such care to make sure she enjoyed the food just as much as she loved food, she forgot about the vibrator.</p><p>Which makes the vibrations that pulse against her clit that is now begging for mercy that much worse. </p><p>And the sweet savoury cake lies heavy on her tongue, different layers of flavours washing over her tongue as she tries to remember how to chew. </p><p>“You’re a little distracted aren’t you Rey?” Ben mutters, enjoying this way too fucking much. “Do you need help sweetheart?” </p><p>Rey nods slowly, her head feeling heavy with the movement. </p><p>“Okay sweetheart-” he slides a finger from her collarbone up to her neck before cupping her jaw, “- you’re going to chew three times and then swallow for me, okay?”</p><p>Rey nods again.</p><p>“One-”</p><p>She forces her jaw to move, teeth biting down. </p><p>“Two-” </p><p>Her jaw moves again biting into a lump of the miso crumble, a rich buttery salty savouriness exploding in her mouth.</p><p>“Three-”</p><p>Her teeth break the delicate skin of a blueberry and the sweet-sour juice coats her tongue. </p><p>“Swallow-”</p><p>As she swallows the delicate skin of her neck shifts and presses up against the hand that Ben has cupped around it, briefly restricting her airways, making her eyes roll back.</p><p>The vibrator leaves her clit, a douse of cold water. </p><p>“Good girl,” he praises. “Again.” </p><p>Ben’s hand hasn’t shifted and she has to lean into his grip to look back down at the cake and pick up a bite on her fork. </p><p>When her mouth closes around the cool metal of the fork and a buzzing hits her clit again she wonders how she’s ever supposed to go back to eating without <em> this </em>. </p><p>Just as she bites into a particularly juicy blueberry and she feels like she’s one second away from the tension that’s been building up in her gut bursting, Ben slides the vibrator away, down her thighs and turns it off. </p><p>Her eyes fly open (god, when did they close?) and her lips part in shock mid-chew. </p><p>He looks at her ever so casually, setting down the Hitachi on the table with a thud, before running a hand through his hair like a seventeen-year-old biker boy that all the good Christian girls with ankle-length hems thirst over. If she wasn’t so horny, Rey thinks that she would hate him right now. </p><p>“Actually baby,” he furrows his brow in an exaggerated manner obviously consumed by the thoughts that robbed her of an orgasm. Again. “I’m starting to feel a little hungry. Can you feed me? Please? For Daddy?” </p><p>Rey sucks in a breath, in her mind chanting the calming mantra of ‘good girls get to come, good girls get to come, good girls get to come around daddy’s cock’.  </p><p>She lets out the breath.</p><p>Nods.</p><p>“Yes, Daddy.”</p><p>Ben grins, teeth and all and it lights up the fucking room. </p><p>“That’s my good girl. Thank you, baby.” </p><p>Rey slices a section of the cake with her fork and leans over towards him, her hand cupped gently under the fork to catch any stray crumbs when he just-</p><p>Doesn’t take it. His mouth sealed shut. </p><p>Without taking his eyes off of hers, he unbuckles his belt, the leather sliding out of the metal buckle in a slick movement that causes another wave of arousal to dribble out from her centre, and pulls his cock out from his boxers. </p><p>Rey is familiar with Ben’s cock. Knows it well. They’re pals. But there’s something about the sight of it now, thick, throbbing, twitching under her gaze that makes her feel undone. </p><p>“Can you keep Daddy’s cock warm while you feed him, baby?” </p><p>Fuck, as if she would say no. </p><p>She scrambles, sliding the plate towards his side, tugging her underwear down and frantically straddling him so she can finally, <em> finally </em> slide herself down on his cock, and <em>fuck</em>-</p><p>It feels <em> so </em> good. </p><p>So good that she just sits there, enjoying the way his hands span her waist, the way he stretches her to the point where it lowkey hurts, the pain ebbed away by the relief of finally clenching on something other than air.</p><p>She lets the sensation of pure pleasure wash over her, her hips rocking back and forth in minuscule motions before she is startled out of her pleasure-filled daze when Ben bites her shoulder. </p><p>“I’m hungry, baby. I thought you were going to feed me?” </p><p>Right, yes. She was supposed to do that. </p><p>So releasing a shaky breath, that’s what she starts to do. With trembling fingers, she picks up the plate and the discarded piece of cake that is speared on the fork and ever so carefully brings it to his mouth. </p><p>This time he accepts it, his lips parting and closing around the fork before drawing back with a moan. </p><p>“Fuck,” he murmurs around a mouthful eyes glazed over. “That is good.” </p><p>He has a bit of cream on the corner of his lip and she just can’t help but lean forward and lick it off.</p><p>“Good?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed in mock-seriousness. </p><p>“Good,” she nods in confirmation. </p><p>She cuts through the cake gathering another slice on her fork for him when his hips shallowly thrust up into her. </p><p>Her eyes roll back and the fork clatters onto the plate. </p><p>“Cake?” </p><p>She responds by clenching hard around him. And then again. </p><p>Ben’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a low hiss. </p><p>When he opens his eyes again, he is-</p><p>Beautifully furious.</p><p>Nostrils flaring he murmurs “fuck that shit,” and roughly grabs the plate from her hands and roughly slides it across the other end of the table. </p><p>Ignoring her whine of complaint he lifts her off him as if she is nothing, turns her around and bends her over the dining table, the dark wood cool against her heated skin. </p><p>A warm hand closes around her hip and draws placating circles around it.  “You’re so wet, sweetheart. Dripping all over my trousers-” He lines his cock up against her centre momentarily brushing against her clit. “-Do you know how many times I’ve gotten my trousers dry cleaned now?” He slides into her with a hard thrust. “It’s almost embarrassing,” he murmurs over her harsh pants.  </p><p>When he is fully seated in her, he leans forward resting one hand beside her head, his chest against her back. He brushes a kiss against her ear, her cheek, her back before letting out a low groan. </p><p>“Fuck, baby you feel so good.” </p><p>His hand on her hip slides up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples and she arches into him, the angle changing from delicious to borderline unbearable. </p><p>“I’m gonna fuck you so deep now, baby,” he growls his breath hot against her neck. “Do you want that sweetheart? You want it nice and deep?”</p><p>“Yes- please daddy-  I want it, <em>please</em>,” she babbles frantically. </p><p>Ben, bless his heart, doesn’t make her wait any longer. </p><p>He thrusts into her roughly, building up a steady brutal rhythm that has her hiccuping on every breath, her eyes wet and her hands trying to grip the smooth wood of the table so she has some kind of tether to reality but failing miserably as every powerful slide of his hips knocks the breath out of her leaving her a squirming mess of a girl. </p><p>His hand slides down from her overstimulated breasts to circle the perimeter of her overstimulated clit. </p><p>And-</p><p>It’s too much.</p><p>It’s a double-edged sword because she knows that once his fingers rub at her clit the pressure that’s been steadily building up for the past few days will release and it’s going to be amazing, more than amazing, and it’s going to be everything she fucking wanted, but-</p><p>She also isn’t sure she’s going to survive <em> it </em>.</p><p>Which is why she thinks she’s going to fucking lose it when suddenly, through clenched teeth Ben asks, “what was your favourite part of dinner?”</p><p>She whines. </p><p>“Come on sweetheart,” his finger inches a millimetre closer to her clit, “tell me what your favourite part was and I’ll let you come.” </p><p>“Fuck,” she gasps. “fuckfuck<em>fuck</em>. The blueberries and the miso,” she grits out. “I liked, <em>ah</em>-” another millimetre closer, “- the sweet-salty combo.”</p><p> </p><p>She can feel Ben smile against the curve of her neck, “my good girl,” he purrs and with a sense of grandiose importance and finality, he rubs his fingers over her clit. Once. Twice.  </p><p>And-</p><p>She explodes.</p><p>Almost literally. </p><p>Her mouth opens into a silent scream that quickly devolves into frantic high pitched gulps of air as her body twitches and her cunt flutters around him. She was right to think that she may not survive this because she isn’t entirely sure she has. Everything is perfect, <em> too </em> perfect, the pleasure well past overwhelming entering a new territory of <em> something </em> that has her high, dazed and buzzing with pleasure. So she embraces it with a satisfied smile and a quiet hum. </p><p>She barely registers the wet pulse of heat that gushes out from her. She barely registers Ben’s low groan of “fuck, you’re amazing, I love you.” She barely registers him sliding out from her a gush of borderline uncomfortable warm fluids slowly dripping out of her. She barely registers Ben cleaning her up with a gentle wet towel and soft fluttering kisses. She barely registers him hauling her into his lap, cradling her head on his bicep.</p><p>When everything becomes more concrete, reality less abstract and the camera lens of her life finally comes into focus Ben is braiding her hair, hands twisting in a smooth practised motion. </p><p>She blinks up at him. </p><p>“You good?” his deep voice vibrates her body and she nestles closer into his body, her body subconsciously recognising him as home. </p><p>“M’ good,” she murmurs, a shy smile playing upon her lips as she looks up at him through eyelashes. </p><p>The rumble of Ben’s stomach disturbs the overly cute adoring staring contest that Rey and Ben found themselves in and Rey can’t help giggle at how disgruntled Ben looks at the moment breaking. </p><p>“I wasn’t joking earlier,” he grumbles, pouting. “I had a bite of cake. I’m fucking hungry. And Spaghetti Aglio e Osso is best eaten immediately.”</p><p>If anything, that just makes her laugh harder.</p>
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